Under My Skin
by Code Purple
Summary: It's not like I'm crazy, or at least I'm pretty sure I'm not. Reality's been merged into the Young Justice world, and I think that I can help here... Probably. Abby's got a problem. Nobody else remembers the real world except her. OC.
1. It All Begins

**Heh, an OC story. Hope she's not a Mary Sue... :D**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Mom?"

"No."

"Mom?"

"_No_. I am not, and have never been your mother!"

"…Oh.  
Then who the hell are you?"

"Doesn't matter."

"What the fuck are you doing in my house, motherfucking stalker?"

"That's for me to know…"

"I'm calling the cops!" I ran into my room, picked up a phone, and realized yet again today that it was a blackout, and my home phone was not working.  
I didn't even have her cell phone on me. I had left it at school.  
Oh god. I was going to die.  
_DIE._  
So I grabbed my handy baseball bat, a flashlight, and some rope (Because, what if I needed to tie this guy up?) and tiptoed back into the living room.

The person didn't hear me.

He was stealing our China and crap.

I swung the bat with all the force I could muster up, and knocked him out.  
Turning on my flashlight, I saw the face of the weird-stalker-imposter.

And gasped.  
It looked like a civilian dressed Sportsmaster was sitting on my floor... unconscious.

What the hell? There was no way that I had been popped into a fantasy land from cartoons and comics. It didn't make sense.  
It didn't happen.

I tied him up.  
Dragging him into an alley somewhere, I realized that I was most definitely insane and delusional.

This didn't happen.

Ever.

Once I walked back home and wrapped myself in covers to try and sleep away the ridiculous notion that I was in a cartoon, my mom walked in the house.

"Abby? Are you still awake?"  
I groaned, but was secretly pleased.

I hadn't been transported like in a crappy fanfiction.* Or if I did, my mom was here with me.

"Now I am."

"Oh. Well, goodnight, honey. I love you."

"Love you too, mom."

"Wait." I said. "The Justice League's definitely not real, right?"

"Why? You wanna join up and be a vigilante at night? Awesome Girl?"

I smiled.  
"Something like that."

"Goodnight, my imaginative daughter."

"Night, mom."

* * *

Weird stuff like that _kept happening_.  
It was little stuff at first, like my apartment being moved to Gotham City instead of New York City, finding newspapers from Metropolis with articles written by Lois Lane.

My world seemed to be merging with a DC Comic world.  
But which one?

It wasn't like I could just _tell _someone my suspicions. Everyone seemed cool with the idea of Metropolis and Gotham and Central City being real.

The DC wiki was gone from the internet, Young Justice, Teen Titans, and Batman Beyond stopped playing on TV, my comic collection was gone, and I seemed to be the only one to remember that this wasn't supposed to be real.

I think I cracked when Bruce Wayne was said to have adopted a new ward.

My mom found me crying in my bedroom, hugging my blanket tightly, and whimpering, "It's not real, it's not real,"

"What's not real, honey?"

"Just..." I choked out. "Just a bad dream. Don't worry."

I had lost my comic-loving mom around a week ago, when she responded to my question, "Do you think Superman has a secret identity?" with an odd stare, and a mumble of, "I dunno."

"Okay. Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Not particularly."

* * *

Days passed by in- literally- years.

Events that took years to take shape in the DCU, took place in less than three weeks.

Robin and Batman.

Poison Ivy.

The Joker.

Kid Flash hit on my sister.

I got saved by Batman after school from a gang.

It seemed to be common. For everyone else. Poor Robin had to drag me home a shivering mess. I think he thought I was still scared about the gang, but, honesty, what eleven year old wouldn't be?

I had finally persuaded my mom to let me take up Karate and carry a pocket knife to school.  
The DCU was motherfucking _scary._

Especially Gotham.  
Especially.

I took up kickboxing as well; I had anger issues, and was continually asked by my mom, before this, of course, to use it as a vent. I couldn't really blame her.  
I yelled a lot, and picked fights over the littlest things.

* * *

One year later, reality wasn't distorted. In the time way, at least.  
But I had the time way to thank for being able to do karate and kickboxing pretty well.

I was able to train more with the time being weird. It felt like four or five years of my extracurriculars instead of a measly one.

I was glad I'd be able to hold my own in a fight.  
Plus, I had my own mix of pepper spray I made up (consisting of cayenne pepper, hot sauce, curry powder, water, and other spicy things) to carry around just in case.

If I had a TVTropes page, I'd be labeled as 'Crazy Over-prepared', but you really couldn't blame me.  
I figured I was around a year before the plot of Young Justice started (or would have, I think Justice League would have started already), and, god, I was scared.  
I mean, as cliché as some of the villains were on here, I wouldn't last five seconds against them.

Be dead before I could say, "Help!"

Somehow I kept getting good grades.

Don't know how I maintained a steady 95 average, but I did.

I think that was around the time my friend died.  
She had cancer.  
I really, really dislike talking about it, but I suppose I got one good thing out of it: my powers.

* * *

It was sad. It was torture.  
I couldn't stop crying.  
There were tears falling out of my eyes, like water streaming down your face was the new black.

I wanted to beat something up.  
I liked having someone to blame, I did. But this kind of thing didn't have a certain someone that could be blamed.  
It didn't, and that's what pissed me off so much.

At school, nobody dared talk to me. Nobody really wanted to anytime soon.

It was that bad.

So, after school one day, I saw these guys beating up this girl, and I stepped in.

My face was covered by my Transition Lenses and large baseball hat (go Yankees!).  
This one guy popped up behind me, and I swear to God, like, ribbons or something popped out of my skin and lashed out on him.

He looked surprised, until the ribbons came off my top layer of skin and tied him up.

Then he just looked pissed.  
The same I did with the rest of them.

I was scared.  
What. The. Fuck.  
I was a meta? _Was_ I a meta?  
I briefly wondered if anyone recognized me.  
Probably not. My school and house were on the other side of the city and I was walking somewhere new.  
Besides, I didn't stand out at school _that_ much.  
My best friend lived in my building, and was homeschooled.

I wondered if Robin saw me.

It didn't really matter.

He was hot when seen in a real life perspective, I'd give him that, but the fangirls went a bit too far.

I would like to refrain from quoting the blogs, which would definitely make this rated 'M'.

He was part of the Team, but then again, so was Artemis and she lived in Gotham too.

I kinda wanted to see her.  
Just for fun, I guess.

She went to Gotham High before she got accepted into Gotham Academy, right?  
That was where my sister went.

Maybe I could ask about her.  
...Nah.

* * *

It occurred to me that I would have to tell my parents about this.

I can imagine how that conversation would go.  
"Hey, mom, dad, I think I'm a metahuman that can use my skin as a weapon!"  
Yeah. No.

But that's actually exactly what I said to them. My parents looked scared.

"And how did you come to this... conclusion?"  
I grudgingly told him the story.

"Ah, well, there were these guys… And I like beat them up… And ribbons or something came out of my skin…"

After that, mom told me a story as well.

"Well, that was a power your great, great grandfather had... and we hoped it didn't show up in you or your sister because it's very dangerous..."

She actually said a long rant about how it was dangerous and he accidentally killed people, but it was boring and you wouldn't really get the story being told.  
"Oh."

"I won't be mad if you wanna start playing vigilante at night. But please, y'know, don't."

"You expect me to?"

"I know you like helping people, Girl Scout. Don't think I don't know my own daughter, who I spent hours in labor for…"

"Please, stop. Ew. Ew, ew, ew."

* * *

I really wasn't planning on being a vigilante, I swear.  
My sister looked at me that night, when I was in our room.

"I wouldn't want to be a superhero. Getting into fights, getting hurt. I really don't want my little sister getting hurt. Be careful."

"I swear I will."

"So, magic skin weapons?"

"I think so."

"Nice."

Despite myself, I did go out that night. It was a Friday… And I was bored with the internet.  
(Really I lost all my Tumblr friends to Twilight and didn't want to go searching for other people)

Little did I know I'd meet one of my favorite heroines that night.

* * *

***The fourth wall is broken a little. ;_;**

**Don't worry, it's fixed.**

**How'd you like it? :D**

**How did you like Abby? Leave your thoughts in a review! :)**


	2. Meeting Artemis

**New chapter! :D I am really loving writing this. I'm glad you (as in the three people who actually reviewed and like six who just fav'd. *glare*) liked it!**

**As a response to Nova Bucker: I rather like writing short paragraphs, and I think it conveys that she's blunt... Or something of that sort. **

**Note: Abby's favorite heroine was Artemis, or at least in the show.**

**Now, on with the story! **

* * *

It was a cold night, one of those nights where you put on summer pajamas (It being hot that afternoon) only to realize that it was freezing cold and you dive on your bed screaming, 'Oh my god blanket! Where is my blanket?'

I was wearing one of those sweatshirts with the zip up hood that goes all the way up and has eye holes.

I really was just going on a walk, I swear.

That time, at least.

But then I saw a flash of blond beating up a ton of guys.

I'm not the most observant person, but I noticed I really wasn't getting attacked by girls in Gotham.

Seriously. Where were the girl gangs?  
But, I really wouldn't have wanted to face them.

Girls fight dirty, with words that seep into the cracks of your soul and force you to break down and cry in the middle of the night.

But anyway, back to Arty.

She was pretty outnumbered, and I slipped into that alley.  
I started punching and she yelled at me.  
"What the hell do you think you're doing! You're gonna get killed!"

"No. I'm not." I tried to reply all cool-like.

A guy punched at my face and started ranting about how he didn't like killing girls, and kept them in the kitchen, so I kicked his sexist ass and Artemis started to look at me like an ally. Not a liability.

The next person was more difficult.

I dodged a bunch of what would have been cuts from his knife.

The ribbon slithered out from my hands and caught it as it was being thrown at my heart.  
I took it in my hands as if I didn't have my own and cut (non-lethally) anyone trying to come at me.

We finished them off and Artemis looked at me.

"Thanks. I actually don't think I actually could have taken them without you." She admitted.  
"You're welcome. I don't really mind helping people. What's your name, by the way?" I asked, as if I didn't already know.

"Artemis." she said after a second.

"Like the Hunter-goddess? Pretty. I'm Abigail, by the way."

"…Yeah." She scrutinized my non-showing face and I zipped down my jacket.

"I'm hot now..." I said.

"Just... wondering, what was that that came out of your hands?" She sounded out every word, as if it were foreign. It wasn't to her, I knew that from the show.

"Magic skin that turns into weapons."  
I walked away, and was surprised she said so much. I was surprised_ I_ said so much.

She was really defensive when she met the Team, I remembered.

At home, I slept all the way until eleven.  
In the morning.

I loved sleeping in.  
I had decided to only beat people up on the weekends, just so I wouldn't miss sleep.

Mmm, sleep.

* * *

When I went out to buy clothes a few weeks later, I bought, like, five more zip to the top sweatshirts because my old one had a few too many holes.

I thought about just making and wearing a full face mask, but decided against it.

But I bought papier-mâché anyway.

Y'know, in case I changed my mind.

The ribbon could apparently turn into knives, arrows, and bird-a-rangs, also.  
So if I joined the Team and they ran out...

I wanted to join the team. I did, because I _could_ help.

I could.

Probably.

I didn't have a superhero name, and I wasn't about to make one up.

People could decide that themselves.  
Besides, what would it be?  
SkinGirl? Ribbon? Miss Weapons?

No. Those were all super* stupid.

* * *

My thirteenth birthday came and passed, as did the seventh grade school year.

It was the end of June, and I knew the series would start soon.

The Young Justice one, anyway. I didn't think this was the Justice League series, and it definitely wasn't Batman Beyond, the last DC Comics cartoon I could remember.

That left another problem: how could I get on the team?

Hope Batman's been stalking me and see if I'll get asked on the team?  
See if my sister could attract the attention of Kid Flash again?  
Fight an actual villain, not just random thugs?

It was A that was the most likely.

I remembered that Artemis' mom asked the Justice League to stalk her daughter and keep her out of trouble.

So, maybe they saw me and, y'know, wanted to make sure I wasn't a villain…?

Actually, I kind of looked like one with my full face, heck, full head covered.

The sweater actually wasn't that scary, but, Jesus, it was getting hot.

I decided to try a papier-mâché mask and dark clothes instead.

After I made the shape of it (and played with the glue because, really, it felt so gooey), and let it dry, I found myself wondering how to paint it.

My paintbrush found its way into the white, and I figured having it white first was a good idea.

It looked so, so pretty, and I thought it should stay that way.

And abruptly realized that it would stick out really, really easily and I would probably get killed.

I decided to paint it the color of the ribbons.

They were a deep, dark purple color and I had always wondered just _how_ my skin got to be that color.

The mask was simple. It had two eye holes and was raised where my nose was.

But on the inside, I had glued/sewed foam and fabric on the inside for comfort. And so the mask doesn't, um, show my cheeks and stuff.

I suppose I really should have been expecting a visit from Batman sometime soon.

He didn't like vigilantes in his city.

I really didn't think it over as thoroughly as I should have, I mean, I'm not the best at foresight, but… I'm pretty _okay _at it…

* * *

***I made a punny. xD**

**Did you like this chapter? Hate it? Leave a review telling your thoughts~! Those who do get, um, a shout out!**


	3. Social Life?

**New chapter! I fixed some spelling errors in the last chapter, in case it was bothering you. I've never gotten more than nine reveiws on anything (and that story is on my alt account, thank you), so I hope I reach double digits with this! LOL.**

**I went to the CIA today to eat... It was so amazing, the dessert. I forgot what words were for a minute.**

**Oh, on with the story!**

* * *

On Independence Day, I sat in front of my couch and watched Speedy (Who I was uncomfortable calling that, due to the show), Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad on my screen.

I felt like a total troll, laughing at the reporters messing KF's name up, Speedy's face... Which I felt uncomfortable knowing that it wasn't _really_ Speedy, just a clone.

But I never had problems with clones before, never when I read about Superboy in the comics, or when I read Double Identity (A fabulous book about a clone, thank you very much), or about Max II in Maximum Ride...

Yeah, I liked fantasy things. Got a problem with that?

But I supposed that _reading _about things rather than experiencing them for my self was... Unsatisfying.

I should have come to this conclusion before.

I wasn't living.

It's not uncommon to find a teenager that didn't have a life, but... I should have had one.

I really, truly, should have.

So, having a life wouldn't be too hard, right?

Uh, wrong times infinity.

The one friend I would always have, Willa, was already at her grandparents house on the beach, and wouldn't be back for two weeks.

Before I joined the team, I would have to make _friends._

I never really had a problem with doing that, just as I didn't have a problem making enemies... Me and my motor mouth were to blame on both of those.

I really didn't know how to make friends outside of school. In school, you just ranted about a bitchy teacher you had in common, started a conversation, and usually people could start liking you.

So what the hell was I supposed to do? Call up my friends that I didn't have or weren't there and ask for a playdate? No.

Go to the park? That was just asking for pervs looking down my shirt and at least a gang or two stalking me.

Uh, what were my options here?

Should I go to Cadmus? No, I couldn't. It was...

Where was it again? There was no way in hell I could remember all the little details from the show, it's not like I memorized it.

Perhaps I should have.

I had already written all the facts and details I could recall about the show in a notebook (Written in code, but could very easily be cracked by Robin if he tried) and other facts from my other comic books.

Where was I again?

Oh, right. I needed friends.

Barbara Gordon was definitely the best thing that could have happened that day.

I was out on a walk, which I was about to end with a large ice cream cone, when she was tripped by some rude skanky-looking girl who just laughed nasally while Barbara bled.

I ran over and cursed a little bit at the skank and helped Barbara up.

"Are you okay? That looks kind of bad. I've got a first-aid kit in my purse if you need it..."

Barbara smiled at me. "Hurts a ton. Ouch. Could I use your first-aid kit, maybe?"

"Of course!" I whipped it out like the badass girl scout I was, sat her down on a bench and set to work.

After sticking a band-aid where the cut/gash was, I smiled and asked, "What's your name?" As if I didn't know her name, life story, future, and what her house looked like.

"Barbara. Yours?"

"Abby. Nice to meet you. Do you have somewhere to be, this is Gotham, after all..."

"Nah. Just wanted to get some ice cream."

"Really? Me too. Maybe we could go together." I suggested. The idea didn't seem too bad, and I _was_ in need of a social life...

"Sure."

We talked on the way there, and after casually asking, "So, what school do you go to? I've never seen you in Gotham Junior High, but, then again, it is a big place..."

She fiddled with her fingers for a second, and answered, "Gotham Academy," softly. I think she was a little embarrassed and/or worried I would like her because she went to the rich kids' school.

"Oh. Cool. My mom was going to try and enroll my sister there after she got her wrist broken by a gang in between classes, but it was way too expensive and her average wasn't high enough for a scholarship." I shared, "But mine is. Maybe if I apply, I could go to school with you. I absolutely hate all of my teachers at my school, they all suck."

"Yeah, my teachers aren't the best, either. My friend, Dick, he renamed all of our math teachers files by hacking, and he, I swear to god, found fanart of Batgirl and Robin on there! Could you believe it?

"No way!"

"Yeah. And he put it as the wallpaper, and never got caught."

"Damn, I wish I was there to see it."

"Ha, you wish."

We were at the store, and I ordered a medium chocolate-vanilla swirl. Barbara ordered a chocolate, and was thankful she wasn't one of _those_ that cared about every calorie they ate.

We chatted for a while and asked me, "So, what are you doing the rest of the summer? I'm not doing anything interesting. You?"

"Heh, me neither." Not anything planned, at least.

"Oh," She took out a pen from her purse and wrote her number. "Text me maybe? I get bored in the summer so easily. My best friend likes skipping out on me, and going to different countries, and making me jealous. I've got to go now. Maybe I'll see you around."

"Maybe. Bye Barbara!"

She walked out.

_Mission motherfucking __accomplished__. I have a somewhat social life!_

That night, I went out in my new, pretty costume. Well, mask, at least. There was no way I would make a whole new costume.

I wasn't _that_ talented at sewing. The best I could make was probably a pillow and I really only used it for sewing up holes.

I'm such an interesting person, talking about how well I can sew.

I didn't think twice about texting Barbara the next day. She and I had a nice conversation, until I received a strange text saying, _'Hey wanna go out together later? ;)_'

I quickly replied, _'Uh, Barbara, you wanna tell me something?'_  
_'Ugh, sorry that was Dick the troll. Please disregard that.'_  
I smirked.

Babs was having her phone taken over by Robin... I can imagine the scene now...

* * *

**Leave a review? ^.^**


	4. Ew, Hospitals

**Ah... New chapter. So, what the hell was up with Season Two? xD**

**/Nightwing is hot**

**/whoops did I say that out loud**

* * *

The next night I went out, I sorta kinda ran into Batman. I think he did it on purpose.

I had taken my mask out of a potted plant with a false bottom on someone's abandoned fire escape, and hooked to the ground all Robin-like.

It was becoming routine for me, and I wasn't sure if I liked that or not.

I mean on one hand, whoo-hoo(!), I was a regular vigilante.

On the other, I went out frequently, and people were starting to know me.

I was usually 'that mask girl' or 'that skin girl'. Needless to say, neither of those really took my fancy. I was seriously contemplating calling myself 'Awesome Girl' and just be done with it.

But, y'know, that sounded really stupid.

Anyway, I was seeing a drug deal go on, and naturally wanted to destroy the people letting others destroy their lives with drugs.

But just as I was about to stop it, Batman swooped in and saved the day.  
He knocked both of them out, took the drugs and carefully dropped them in a bag (evidence?) and scrutinized my face.

I had the desire to run away, far from this intimidating figure.

"You shouldn't be out here."

"Where?" I asked. "Here, as in 'Don't be in this area; it's private property' or out, beating up gangs?"

"The last one."

I shrugged.

"I like helping people. It makes me happy." Truly, it did. I no longer went out for the sole purpose of the Team, but the satisfaction that I did something good made me feel better.

I'm not entirely sure what happened after that. I remember seeing a flash of red, and I think yellow and waking up in the hospital.

Meanwhile, with Batman, Robin and Kid Flash had literally just come bursting into the alley he was in... And knocking out the girl he was about to ask about joining the team.

"Ah! Who's this? Did we kill her?" Kid Flash pressed his two fingers to her wrist and attempted to look for a pulse, but this _purple _stuff shot out of her skin and slapped him.

"Ouch! Guess not..."

"Batman, who's this?" Robin asked. As if he didn't just knock me down and give me a concussion. Actually, he just gave me a big bruise, but whatever.

"A vigilante."

"...Oh."

"Should we take her to the hospital?"

"Yes. And after you apologize for knocking this person out, you can leave, Kid Flash." Cue Batglare.

"Oh." He looked sheepish. "Rob and I wanted to know if you had any missions for us?" He said it like a question.

Batglare times two.

"Guess not..."  
Robin already had the girl in his arms. "Let's get her to the hospital, KF. You hit her so fast; I think she's got a concussion."

He carefully peeled off her mask; it was hooked around both ears and her neck. He didn't exactly want a repeat of what happened.

The face looked vaguely familiar, but he didn't recognize it.

Why was Batman interested in this girl?

Oh, he definitely was, Robin had seen it on his face... A split second before KF crashed into her.

* * *

I woke up to... white. White, white, white.  
What.  
Was I in a hospital?  
I wasn't the biggest fan of hospitals, especially IVs. Really just the thought of unknown things going directly into the bloodstream.  
Seriously. Any one of the nurses can just pop some poison in an IV and leave a patient to die.  
This was Gotham, I'd believe it.  
I heard whispering outside.

"Is she awake?"

"I think so. Bats is gonna kill you if you don't apologize."

Bats? As in, Batman?

Wait. Batman...  
I was talking to him, wasn't I?  
Yeah.  
And... What happened after that?  
Someone walked in.

"Uh... hi." It was Kid Flash. My eyes widened, and I realized that, yes, Kid Flash was in my hospital room. My mask was not on my face, and the last thing I remembered was with my mask on...  
God damn it all. He probably knew my identity, too.

"Hi?" I wasn't exactly sure why he was in here... Or why I needed his apology. "Where am I? Hospital? If I am, why?" I questioned.

"Uh. R-Rob? A little help here?"  
My eyes narrowed, and I stopped myself from saying quite a few nasty curse words.  
He walked in and I realized that this was most definitely not a dream. Possibility removed.

"Where. Am. I? One question, please answer."

"Gotham Hospital." Robin replied smoothly.

"Oh, Jesus. What's wrong with me, then?"

"KF knocked you out."

I raised my eyebrow, as if I had never heard the nickname before.

"KF?"

"Kid Stupid over there."

"Hey! Right here, you know!"

"Yeah, I noticed, what with him saying that and all. Second question. Why are you here?"

"To apologize for... um, knocking you out."

How long was I out for?

I voiced that concern.

"Only about forty-five minutes, don't worry."

"Oh. Your apology is accepted, by the way. Uh, am I allowed to get up? Go home?"

Kid Flash spoke up. "Batman wants to talk to you. Good luck."

I groaned. "I am very, very scared."

I don't really want to say the details of everything Batman talked to me about.

First off, the Batman is a very, very scary person. I try and block out everything but the important parts of his lectures.

For example, this time, it was that it was dangerous to try and fight crime without proper training or a partner. Also, there was an opening on a small team of superheroes, if I wanted to join.

I assumed he was talking about the team.

"It sounds like a good idea," I had said, "And other people could probably help me get better. So, yeah, maybe."

Batman nodded and said he would arrange the rest of this when I wasn't in a hospital bed.

It occurred to me that I was in nothing more than a white and blue smock.

Or, that's really what I thought of hospital gowns anyway.

"Um..." I said to the nurse in my room, "Where are my clothes?"

She pointed to a bag next to my bed.

"Right there, honey."

"Thank you."

I was allowed to leave, and I _had _asked earlier.

The bys walked out of the room and closed the door while I got changed.

A black tee shirt and shorts weren't really that conspicuous, hopefully.

I was worried, to say the least, that my mask was not in the bag of clothes.

Walking out with KF, who still looked really guilty, I was happy.  
But, not because of KF being guilty. That's just kind of mean.  
I was joining the Team.

I finished my goal.

Then came the sinking feeling of, 'What do I do now?'

What _was_I supposed to do?

I already had straight A's.

I was… getting better in my various extracurriculars, of which computer hacking was one.

(But mostly I just learned how to get around blocked sites in my school.)

Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, and DeviantART weren't uncommon places to find me.

But seriously, what kind of a school blocks _art_?

Maybe I could do art!

I had heard that it helped with patience, and how you notice things...

Yes, I would take up art.

* * *

**Uh, yeah, Abby's a Tsundere. I won't deny it.**

**:)**

**Leave your thoughts in a review ~**

**Y'know, I'm at double digits now! :D**

**This makes me happy. To all those who reviewed, here's a smiley. :D**


	5. Misadventures with my Mentor

**New chapter. xD**

**The episode yesterday was... Weird. I have a feeling Beast Boy's a Supermartian shipper.**

**His voice bothers me a little bit. (But that's only because Dia made me watch Teen Titans)**

* * *

It was still night time when I left the hospital, and I was glad about that.

First off, my parents knew I went out at night.  
Well, either that or I was absolutely amazing at sneaking out and in.

Second, if my parents had woken up and I wasn't there... They would assume things.

And they'd be absolutely positively terrified, and it would be my entire fault because I hated _drugs _(And drug dealers, by association).

Secretly, I thought about going on dates or whatever the hell normal teenagers do when they sneak out at night.  
Go clubbing?  
Have dates?  
Play vigilante?

Well, I already did that last one, and it wasn't as if I had any boyfriends...  
Or crushes, for that matter.

I wasn't exactly what you would call... Pretty.  
Thick, frizzy brown hair, overly large nose, pimples and freckles spattered all over -should I go on?  
And boys made fun of me for that. And girls, too.

Y'know, until I beat the crap out of a few of them.  
...Geez, I needed friends.  
Well, now I had them.  
Hopefully.

(I'm not self conscious, why would you think that?)

* * *

The next time I went out, I yet again saw Mr. Bat.  
He explained to me why I should join this team ("And I _don't_ want to be responsible if a person dies in _my city_ (Last time I checked, it wasn't owned by just one person, BW) because they were playing vigilante without proper training,"), where I should go ("And I _should_ tell your parents about this, but it's your choice if you want me to or not," "I'll bring you on Saturday. Everyone will be there. Meet me at three in Gotham Harbor,"), and that I would need to get a costume and a mentor.  
"What?"  
"Yes?"  
"A mentor?" I inquired.  
"You're not experienced enough to do this alone."  
"But-" I started to protest.  
"You _will_ need a mentor if you are to join this team. Understood?"  
"...Yeah."

"..."  
"Who?"  
"Black Canary volunteered to be your mentor."  
"I... See..."  
It wasn't that I didn't like Black Canary...  
She was just scary. And I think she'd take a sort of twisted pleasure in beating me up.

Plus, Willa has a girl crush on her. (Don't tell anyone.)

* * *

I met Canary three days before I officially joined the team.

"Um. Hi." Cue awkward.

"Hi, I'm Black Canary, which you probably already knew considering you've talked to Batman..."

"Uh, yeah. I'm Abby. Which _you_ probably already knew... Y'know, it's _really _weird meeting superheroes in real life." I was going into rambling mode, wasn't I?

"Is it?" She asked.

"Sort of."  
"…"

"…"  
"So, you're a metahuman?"

"I _think _so."

"Well," she smiled (evilly!), "Let's see what you can do."

Then she came at me.  
In Canary's -I believe- personal training room, there wasn't much good I could do with my surroundings.

I caught her in a whip, but she was too close and punched my face.  
That shocked me, and the ribbons let go.

The rest of the fight was a bit of a blur.

I kicked, punched, and attempted to body slam her a few times before she caught me and put me in a headlock.

Then she softened her grip.

"Nice job. I'm a bit impressed."

"Thanks. I'm actually not sure if that was a complement or not, so I'm going to pretend it was."

"I like you, kid."

"I would hope so, seeing as you're supposed to be my mentor for god-knows how long."

"So, you have a name?"

I looked at her, confused.

"I already told you, I'm Abby."

"Superhero name."

"Oh. Nope."

"We should change that. Batman also said you needed a costume?"

"Yeah. But I've got a mask I wear, too." I opened my backpack and ripped it out.

She looked at it for a minute. I think a full face mask didn't do it for her.  
"I see. Do you at least have an idea?"

"Yeah." I gave her a drawing of a costume I had thought of.

It was somewhat reminiscent of Black Canary's uniform.

It was the same color as my mask, dark purple, and it was sleeveless.

The top was rimmed with black, and the middle had a thick, black belt thing. Up to the knees, there were black sneaker-boots. At first, there were black gloves on the hands, but I had realized how stupid that would be (Covering the parts my ribbons mainly came out of, _good job!_) and scribbled it out.

She looked at it and asked, "Is purple your favorite color or something?"

"...Yeah," I admitted.

"How does… Violet sound as a name?"

"…I like it." And I did. "But it sounds weird."

"Really?"

"Yeah. What am I gonna say when criminals ask who I am. 'Hey, I'm _Violet, _and I'm going to kick your butt!(?)'"

"True."

"Uh…"

"Hm."

"This is awkward."

"Yes, yes it is."

I looked at my watch.

"Oh! I've got Girl Scouts right now…"

She looked a little pissed.

"Alright. You know how to use the Zeta tubes?"

"Uh…"

"I'll take that as a no."

* * *

After being shown the way how to use the Zeta tubes, I was running into an apartment building that the meetings were held at.

"Abigail!" An owl-eyed face stared at me with a fake smile.

"Uh, hi, Amanda. Sorry I'm late."

"We thought you'd never get here! It's okay though." My Girl Scout troop was filled with snarky girls that didn't give a bloody shit about honor, or _helping people_, the kinds of things a Girl Scout should do. But I digress.

Mrs. Daley (Amanda's mom) was basically saying things about whatever we were supposed to be learning, and all the other girls gossiped.

It bothered me a little, but I really couldn't care less about those other girls.

"Goodness, Abby, you're so helpful!" Mrs. Daley said after I took all the garbage the other girls accumulated, and threw it in the trash.

I grinned.

"Just helping out. After all, isn't that what Girl Scouts do?"

* * *

The day had finally come. Saturday.

It was two o'clock, so I changed out of my clothes, slapped on a tee shirt and jeans, and started walking to Gotham Harbor.

"Where are you going?" My mom inquired.

"Oh, just that art club I told you about." Lie.

"Alright. Is your cell phone charged?"

"Yeah. Don't worry, mom. I'll be fine." Unless Canary _did _take a twisted pleasure in beating the shit out of me.

I walked to Gotham Harbor, which took about forty minutes in itself, and waited awkwardly on a bench.

Fifteen minutes later, Batman scared the fuck out of me.

"Abigail?"

"Ah!" My pepper spray was out of my pocket, and my finger on the sprayer.

"Oh," I said. "It's you. Sorry."

Batman nodded his reply and brought me to the nearest zeta tube.

The beam made me feel a bit shivery (or was that the anxiousness?) and I arrived in the Cave.

It was big, and I spotted Canary and KF immediately.

"Hey, you're-" Kid Flash was cut off.

"Team, Briefing Room immediately."

I felt tingly.

Canary directed me to the room, and there were five faces staring at me, five people that were older, better, and stronger than me.

"Um. Hi."

* * *

**Cue awkward. Heh. Abby's a weirdo.**

**Leave a review? **


	6. Fall

**So um. I'm sorry for making this. It just... Happened. And now my sweet baby is finished. And twisted. I hope you like it... Or not.**

* * *

I breathed in abruptly as the feeling of just being woke up swept over me.

_Was it all... A dream?_

I looked around the white, bland room and decided I was at a hospital.

_AGAIN._

Great.

My arm was covered in a cast, and my face seemed covered in oil. My mother came in the room, and she looked at me with a sort of pitying look.

"Mom?" I asked. She looked infinitely relieved.

"Oh, honey," she whispered as I was hugged tightly.

"What? Mom, what's going on?"

"You got hit by a car."

"I— What?" I asked incredulously. That sounded like the lamest way to be put in a hospital, although the most likely. I always thought being put in the hospital would be via a speeding speedster, or getting conked on the head by a thief. Of course, I always was imaginative...

"They say you might have lost years of memory."

_What?_

It explained a lot of things, either way. But...

"How old am I?" If I was lucky, then I hadn't completely made up the past three years and be ten again.

I hated it the first time. Not really, of course. But... You know what I mean, right? I don't want to relive the beginning of puberty again. That was _bad_ the first time, it would be torture the second.

"You're thirteen... How old was the last age you remember being?"

"Thirteen."

"That's good," she smiled. "That's good."

* * *

So that's what I remember. The therapist says I should write down all the things I can remember. Although, I sort of think the 'fantasy' I've created is real... But that's a little crazy, isn't it?

Although, all things considered... I have one hell of an imagination. I mean really, what kind of a person creates an alternate reality based on a TV show to make up for three years of memory loss with semblances of the truth seeping though? Well, apparently me, but... I must be crazy.

* * *

It was a little bit weird going back to the apartment later on— seeing as I was used to it being darker and a floor lower. My bed was also the same as it was... before.

As I looked out my window that night, I really thought, 'This is not mine'.

I mean, Gotham wasn't really mine, either, I mean, it wasn't _real, _but... I hadn't 'been' to New York City in three years. There was a tall building in the way of my view— but I never had a view, you silly girl— And the Ice Cream shop wasn't there, it only existed in some old town in New Jersey— How was I imagining Ice Cream shops that I had never seen? I've never even _been_ to New Jersey!

Willa's here, of course. Willa's always been there for me... Even when I thought I had went insane.

She has her own theories, of course, being _Willa._

"Well, what if you read a fanfiction about this?" She suggested one night as I was talking to her about it.

"I don't even read fanfiction much anymore! And besides, I didn't read shameless Self-Inserts for the Young Justice fandom!"

"Good point."

"Mmhmm."

"Wanna look at pictures of the Avengers on Google?"

"_Yes_."

* * *

"Is it ready?"

"Not yet."

* * *

"So you're telling me," said my cousin, "That you _partially _lost your memories, but created a fake reality to make up for the rest?"

"I'm told it's normal with amnesia." I pointed out, trying desperately to help my case.

"Uh-huh. And this is an okay excuse to 'forget' that you owe me twenty bucks?"

"Absolutely."

"Well, _alright_, then. Maybe we should go to some fake ice cream shops in New Jersey."

"Hey—"

"You're buying."

* * *

This is my life now. Minimally exciting. I can't even do anything at night other than go on the Internet. Which isn't bad, per se, but it's not beating people up. Heh.

It could even be called _normal._ But this is me, so, no.

* * *

"Is it ready?"

"Patience.

"Ugh. I don't want to wait."

* * *

What if your entire life was a lie? Thoughts, dreams, affections. _Everything?_

You have been entered into **THE PROGRAM**.

You can never go back.

* * *

The person who I thought I was, who everything was, the thought that I was in at least _some _control of my life... False.

False, false, false. I woke up two months ago, screaming and trying to make sense of the life I had (or rather, never did), the one I have now (but do I really?), and a horrible, empty sense of _What happens now?_

My name used to be Abigail— can't remember my last name, but it never _was _mine anyway.

Apparently my whole life was an experiment, a _game _for someone I don't even know.

* * *

Don't blink— you don't know what's real or not.

* * *

I'm sure this is very confusing— you just thought you were reading some fluffy self-insert fanfiction on a website you discovered... But, in fact, if you got as far as this— You are not in the illusion. _Yet._

Do _not _tell anyone about this. Think about this all the time so you _know you aren't in the illusion._

The second you forget, it's too late.

I'm sorry. I don't want anybody else getting into this, but I'm about to die.

The second you take your eyes off of this, I will be dead. I'm already dead.

I need you to help.

I never wanted help, of course. Once upon a time, I thought I was the best person ever. I could do anything. But my choices were outlined from the beginning, a child's game... Don't let it happen to you.

* * *

**No, really. I am very sorry. next I'm going to try working on something awesome but my plot bunnies as of late are either _SUPER MAGICAL OC PEOPLE WITH MAGICCCCCCC_ or_ DARK DARK DEPRESSING BLARGHGHGH._**

**__So I've finished UMS. *flails***


End file.
